


Be grateful for small favours

by zetsubooty



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte | Big Windup!
Genre: (no im not), Accidental Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Fluff, I guess technically Tajima's the only one underage here...BUT STILL., M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Snowballing, although BARELY bc hanai is a SPOILSPORT, i am so sorry hanai
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-05 09:14:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6698908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zetsubooty/pseuds/zetsubooty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is not quite how he envisioned his First Real Kiss, upside-down with hard earth under his knees, the smell of sweat and leather and metal and grass still thick in the air, and Tajima fucking Yuuichirou gasping out “Whoaaaaaa!” like he’s at a goddamn fireworks show.</p><p>Hanai keeps interrupting Things, and honestly can't tell whether or not to curse fate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Be grateful for small favours

**Author's Note:**

> this is absolutely nhu's fault, who has also dubbed this ship "peppered oyakodon"

Hanai’s known he had a crush on Tajima since about three quarters of the way through first year. That’s nothing new, and it’s no more or less obnoxious than _everything_ about that little twerp.

This. This is new, and it seems just…unfair.

It’s their last spring, just another practice like any other. Tajima’s talking Mihashi down from another panic, low voices and heads together and Hanai’s only vaguely paying attention because it’s pretty obvious it has to do with Abe being across the field, occupied with putting prospective pitchers through their paces. Still, Hanai watches in his peripheral vision because it’s hard _not_ to be hyper-conscious of Tajima like that.

His eyes snap over at _this_ , though, at Tajima leaning closer to peck Mihashi’s lips, then pulling back with a disarming grin and a giggle. And it’s sweet, almost childlike, could be mistaken for something innocent if not for the way Mihashi’s cheeks flame, if not for the sudden intent look in Tajima’s eyes, the way he leans close to whisper something in Mihashi’s pink-tinged ear that leaves them both snickering into their gloves before they jog back to their respective positions.

But there’re kouhai to be wrangled and a dozen other things on Hanai’s mind and it slips away from him until a night or two later, lying in bed and staring at the ceiling and trying to think about The Future and Important Things and not about a freckled face and blinding grin and then the image swims back into his mind.

 _So…are they dating?_ Hanai grumbles and jams a pillow over his head. _Missed my goddamn chance. Of course. Just my luck._

He had no idea just how bad (or perhaps good) his luck was about to get.

It’s only about a week later when one of the first-years ‘helpfully’ brings a bag of bats back to the clubroom, and the kid looks about ready to cry when Hanai (very restrainedly) chews him out for it, so he just pats the guy on the shoulder and tells him to go get changed, he’ll deal with it. It’s the absolute _last_ thing he wants to do after a long practice, the April dusk already long fallen, but he figured out pretty quick that ‘needless hardass’ was not the kind of captain he aspired to be, and a little kindness early on works wonders for building trust.

Which is the sort of thing he’s thinking about as he walks up to the field, bag slung easily across his chest, and perhaps a _little_ bit thinking about how that rule doesn’t apply to one short jackass who gets under his skin like no other and seems impervious to Hanai’s anger anyway. Hanai pulls a resigned smile, sighing out a breath as he braces the bag and dips to grab the handle of the storage shed door (unlocked and not even shut properly, he also notes). With a rattle and a whoosh, he yanks it up.

And then stops dead, arm still stretched up, glad he’s got the bag secure or he’d probably have dropped it on his foot.

Tajima’s straddling Mihashi on the ground, backed up against a pitching machine, which _can’t_ be comfortable but Mihashi sure doesn’t seem bothered by it at present. His mouth hangs open, as does his jersey, Tajima’s too, though from this angle, Hanai can’t see whether his undershirt is also pushed up like Mihashi’s. What he _can_ see is Tajima bent over him, apparently sucking at a nipple, hands curled on Mihashi’s sides with thumbs stroking over his skin, and somehow, _somehow_ the gentle starkness of distant streetlamps is just enough to pick out the goosebumps on Mihashi’s skin, if not the flush he’s still sure is bright across his cheeks. And Tajima rocking his hips still for a few seconds that feel like eternity before lifting his head with an audible little pop and a sigh of breath and turning to grin at Hanai over his shoulder like a cat that’s been in the cream.

“Hey, Azusa! Lil' busy!”

Somehow, that cocky little assertion spurs him into action. He swings the bag off his shoulder and sets it down gently as he can, then lunges forwards, grabbing Tajima under the arms and hauling him back, barely giving him a chance to get his feet under him.

“Hey! What the heck!”

“Don't...don't make out in the goddamn storage shed!" He’s pretty sure that making out is not quite the right term.

“Why not? No one could see us! Well, I guess 'cept you…” Tajima snickers, dangling from Hanai’s hold, completely uncowed.

For his part, Mihashi’s blinking up at Hanai, eyes wide as saucers. His hands open and close on air for a few seconds before he hauls his undershirt up in front of his face, then gives that up to curl forwards, drawing up his knees. And up till now, Tajima hadn’t really fought Hanai’s grip on him, but he does the second Mihashi’s shoulders tremble.

“Hey! Lemme free!”

Hanai releases him, because even if embarrassment rolls off Tajima’s back like water off a duck, Mihashi’s still a little fragile, and this sort of… Well, _Hanai’s_ blushing beet-red and he’s not the one who’s just been caught with a boner and his hand on another boy’s ass.

“Look…you guys aren’t in any trouble, okay?” Hanai rubs at his forehead, avoiding looking at them as Tajima nudges into Mihashi’s space, almost _more_ intimate than catching them going at it. “Just don’t do it again, okay? Don’t…get up to stuff like this _here_ , geez.” Indignance is giving him a little bit of his cool back.

“We weren’t gonna leave a mess, or anything!” Another brilliant flash of teeth from Tajima, and Mihashi now giving him an uncertain little smile, too, oddly heartening. Except that now Hanai’s thinking about what ‘leave a mess’ would entail.

“That’s _not_ the point, you idiot!” he sputters out.

Tajima’s helping Mihashi rebutton his jersey, starting from the bottom while Mihashi starts from the top and then joining hands in the middle. Tajima hops to his feet and brings Mihashi with him, bouncing together over to Hanai.

“ _Fine_ , spoilsport! Reeeee-eeeeeen, wanna go to my house and finish?” Mihashi nods energetically, smile bigger now.

They dart past him, and Hanai turns to call after them, “Hey! Go back and get your stuff first!”

“Aww _man_ , but we got stiffies! I don’t wanna go all the way, on our _bikes_ \--”

“Yuu!” Hanai slaps his hands over his face. “Don't _yell_ crap like that!” Tajima whips around to pull down an eye and stick out his tongue, then chases Mihashi, cackling, to grab their bikes and disappear into the night.

Only a few days pass, but Hanai has more than one furious wank session thinking about catching the two of them there. And perhaps, just perhaps, letting his mind fill in what might have happened if he _hadn’t_ shown up. It makes it hard to meet Mihashi’s eyes (not that that’s easy at the best of times), and Tajima too, though less so when he feels distinctly like he’d just take it as a compliment. _He’d probably high-five me, to be honest._ Still, Hanai finds himself avoiding the two of them.

And yet, he’s extra conscious of them. And of how much time they spend together. And how much they _touch_.

Which is why he’s watching surreptitiously from another table during a morning group study session when Mihashi’s foot creeps over under the table, over to nudge against the side of Tajima’s. And then raises to graze up the back of his calf. Tajima lifts his head, glancing over at Mihashi with an affectionate smile, then turns back to his work; and yet somehow, his foot slowly edges closer to Mihashi’s chair. Mihashi gives a little happy wriggle, hooking his foot around Tajima’s leg, stroking up it.

It leaves Hanai with a ticklish feeling, imagining how it must feel, and he finds himself half-shading his eyes and his lightly flushed cheeks with his hand. Yet somehow, not taking his gaze off their tangled feet, how they angle slightly in their seats to press their knees together, how Tajima slowly reaches across Mihashi’s lap, leaving Hanai with embarrassed heat surging through him until it becomes apparent he’s just grabbing for his hand. He tugs it back so their twined fingers rest on Mihashi’s thigh, squeezing a little and then just resting there, relaxed.

Nishihiro breaks all three of their concentrations by patiently asking Tajima and Mihashi if they need a break. Mihashi shakes his head vigorously, jerking his hand out of Tajima’s hold guiltily, but Tajima nods, says, “Yeah!” loud enough to earn himself a glare from the librarian. “C’mon, Ren!” Tajima gets to his feet, holding his hand out. “Gotta take a piss!”

Nishihiro nods, smiling with the tiniest hint of fond exasperation; Izumi leans over from the other end of the table to ask if Tajima’s worried about getting lost on the way back, which is just met with a cackle as the two of them scamper past.

They’re not gone long, but longer, _much_ longer than it takes to pee, and Mihashi’s cheeks are still pink, and god, Hanai doesn’t know whether it’s the pink of kissing cut short or of satiation, but he finds he can’t concentrate on his work for the rest of the morning. _How does no one else_ notice?

Still, he tells himself firmly, even if Tajima’s taken-ness might disappoint him, it’s not any of his business. Especially since so far as he can tell, they don’t make use of the storage shed again. Not that he checks. Not that he hopes they’ll be there, or perhaps have gotten into the club room early after classes, or any number of other scenarios. Not at all.

Maybe not again like _that_ , exactly, but he does catch them in little affections regularly. Goofy things like sharing a juice box and grinning at each other over it, Tajima pursing his lips in a kissy face as he sucks on the straw until Mihashi laughs, curling in towards him and hands edging closer. Small touches, glances, and maybe it’s just that he’s watching a lot or maybe it’s that there are a lot _of_ them, Hanai couldn’t say.

And every now and then, Tajima catches him catching them, grinning and giving him a thumbs-up. And once, oh god, once, just twining his fingers tighter in Mihashi’s and leaning in to press their lips together. This time, it’s no quick little cheering smooch, it’s something slow and luxuriant, and he can see the way their jaws move as they open their mouths into it and Hanai just _barely_ looks away before Tajima’s eyes open on him again.

After that, it’s like they're doing it on purpose, finding ways to torture him. Managing to find the perfect alcove to back Mihashi into where Hanai will pass by, catch them with Tajima’s leg edging between Mihashi’s thighs and their lips flushed from kissing, Mihashi’s fingers twisted tensely in the loose open front of Tajima’s button-up, and Tajima with his eyes dark and heavy-lidded as he nudges his way in for another kiss. Curled together behind a tree not too far away from the one where he’s _trying_ to carry out an intelligent conversation with Abe and Suyama over lunch, if those two would just _stop kissing_ like that. Or at all. And always, always, those warm brown eyes catching on his, crinkled in a dickish little smile as Tajima slips his square hands up under Mihashi’s shirt, and always, always Hanai who looks away, wanting to haul his kerchief off his head and hide his flushed cheeks behind it.

 _He knows, he fucking_ knows, _and he’s torturing me, the little bastard. What the hell did I ever do to deserve goddamn Tajima Yuuichirou??_

He can’t find it in himself to resent Mihashi. Much. He’s a _little_ jealous, but then those two’ve always had a connection that left Hanai a little in awe and with that thread of envy in him, and he knows he’s not alone. And yet at the same time, there’s something in their bond that, even as it creates this little bubble of _us_ , also turns them outward, a circle that leaves room for others to complete it.

And Hanai’s coming to the horrifying realization that he really, really wants to be the one to do it.

Tajima’s been a frequent player in his fantasies for a long while, and it’s hard not to incorporate real-life information, now he’s seen some of how he kisses, how he moves up against another body, the faces he makes. Early on, Mihashi just became a blurry outline in his mind, a vague _human_ -ness that he wasn't quite willing to superimpose himself on but didn’t want to call up in too much detail. But somewhere along the line, Mihashi filled back in, became himself in all his blushing and strange little hiccupping sounds and all those little glimpses Hanai’s had of slim stomach and collarbone with the red mark of Tajima’s lips and thighs trembling as Tajima pushes between them and before he knows it, he’s envisioning himself in behind Mihashi, his own fingers slipping down the front of his pants and Tajima leaning around Mihashi to claim Hanai’s lips, palms hot on their thighs and Hanai comes into his hand harder than he thinks he’s ever come before or maybe it’s just being slammed with the earth-shattering realization of just how fucking much he wants this.

He pushes it aside then, because he needs to sleep and it’s a little too much to process. But it resurfaces again the next day. In the middle of a captain’s meeting, of course.

And somehow, he finds himself idiotically blurting out, “Hey…can I ask you guys something?”

Two sets of eyes turn to him, one sympathetically curious, the other neutral but with a hint of interest. Hanai immediately racks his brain for some way to backtrack, some other thing to ask. Except he trusts these two, and respects them, and goddamn it, he needs to talk to _someone_ about this, even if it’s obliquely.

“D’you think a person can love more than one person?”

Abe folds his arms, frowning. “You mean like parents and stuff? Of course.”

“No, like…”

“You mean _in_ love, right?” Hanai nods, and Sakaeguchi smiles a little, considering. “I don’t see why not.”

Abe wrinkles his nose slightly. “Isn’t that kind of greedy, though?”

“Greedy!” Sakaeguchi sputters a laugh.

“Yeah. Although really, two people… I mean, would you want to date more than one? It seems like a lotta work.”

Sakaeguchi gives him an unimpressed sidelong look. “Well, I imagine _some_ people would manage to be less work than others. And besides,” he glances back at Hanai, “the others would take care of each other, too, right? So it’d probably even out, in the end. Oh, presuming that’s…what you were talking about, and not,” he lowers his voice to a whisper, eyes wide, “ _cheating_.”

Hanai blanches. “No, more the first… I mean, I…hadn’t really thought about it that much.” He can feel heat rushing to his cheeks. “Just…just an idle thought.”

“Bullshit. That sort of thing wouldn’t occur to you if you weren’t already in some sort of weird situation like that.”

“It might!”

“Eh?”

Sakaeguchi’s cheeks are a little pink too. “It might, theoretically, occur to a person, even if they didn’t necessarily have a second person in mind!”

Abe frowns, then shrugs. “I guess so.”

“Look, can we just…get back to the batting order for the practice games?”

“Sure. _You_ were the one who brought up _weird_ stuff.” Abe may be perfectly happy to focus back on baseball, but Sakaeguchi gives him a curious look now and then that Hanai steadfastly ignores.

What he _can’t_ ignore is Tajima’s pink tongue cleaning pear juice off his fingers and the way Mihashi’s eyes follow the movement, the way Tajima catches him at it and then grins at him, doing increasingly lewd things until Mihashi’s fidgety and blushing and breathing out his funny little laugh and Izumi punches Tajima in the arm and tells him to stop being gross. Hanai’s simultaneously grateful and wants to punch Izumi himself.

Except this time, this time it’s _Mihashi’s_ eyes that flick to him.

Though there’s nothing of challenge or teasing in them, only curiousity and then shyness as he looks away, leaning forward to shove his face against Tajima’s shoulder and mumble something inaudible. Tajima just laughs, squeezes him in a quick hug, then turns to say something to Izumi. Hanai’s left somehow resentful that he doesn’t turn to look, _look_ _, damn you, don’t just take it for fucking granted that I’m watching you._

But Tajima doesn’t look, not anymore. Not when Hanai catches them between some bushes and an outbuilding at lunchtime, Mihashi splayed in Tajima’s lap and shaking at his shoulder when he notices Hanai, and he hears, he fucking _hears_ Tajima murmur, “Just watch him,” before curving up to suck at the side of Mihashi’s neck. And Mihashi, ever obedient, looking over at him, except Hanai’s torn between meeting those wide hazel eyes and their strange awestruck expression and watching the way Mihashi’s pulling up the back of Tajima’s shirt, fingers tight and shaking on the fabric and revealing the knobs of Tajima’s spine and for all that he’s still short and skinny, how pleasingly broad it is, how nice it would be to fit his hands either side and feel the way his muscles tense under his skin as he holds himself up like that. Hanai swallows, trying to meet Mihashi’s eyes again, except now they’re shut and he can’t see where Tajima’s other hand is but he _can_ see the tense dents Mihashi’s leaving in the flesh of Tajima’s back and the way he’s grinding his ass down into Tajima’s lap and it’s too fucking much and Hanai flees.

Flees all the way to the third-floor bathroom that he knows is likely deserted at this hour, and he lies to himself about what he’s doing right up until he’s got the stall door shut behind him and is fumbling his pants undone. He shoves his face in the crook of his arm, pressed against the cool tiles, and fucks into his fist.

The darkness makes a beautiful backdrop for thinking about the two of them, thinking about what they must be doing right now, whether they’re just grinding against each other until completion or if Tajima’s got Mihashi’s pants undone, nose-to-nose with him with that game-sharp focus that would make anyone blush and surely has Mihashi flushed all down his neck and rocking his hips to feel Tajima’s hardness against his ass and god, had they done _that_ yet? Tajima curled over Mihashi, tugging his legs up over his shoulders and pressing forward, bending Mihashi in half so they can kiss, sloppy and wet as Tajima pounds into him, or Mihashi with his blushes hidden against Tajima’s back, his cries smothered in his sweaty skin and Tajima probably wouldn’t shut up, probably encouraging him with all kinds of lewd things and maybe, _maybe_ coming up on his knees so they’re pressed together and Mihashi’s mouth open wetly on his nape and leaving room for Hanai, perhaps on his back under them, maybe on his knees, perhaps on the floor beside a bed, with Tajima’s dick buried in his mouth and two hands from two boys sliding over his scalp in encouragement, or shit, himself pinned in the middle and Hanai sinks his teeth into his arm to keep himself silent as he comes into his shaking fist.

Mizutani asks him later why he’s wearing his jacket inside even though it’s warm, and wasn’t he wandering around outside without it earlier, what was he doing it kind of looked like he was looking for something did he find it and Hanai considers strangling him but it wouldn’t help him any.

If it was just the sex thing, it wouldn’t be so bad. Well, it’d still be pretty damn bad, but at least that sort of thing feels like it’d fade, mellow, dry up if left unquenched too long. But no, he has to _like_ both of them, too. Tajima the obnoxious, Tajima the too loud, Tajima the wind that fills his sails like no one else ever has. Tajima who holds up a mirror to him that shows all his failings, yes, but all his strengths, too, and Tajima who’s _fun_ , drags him into things he never would’ve tried on his own and makes him love them for all that he protests. And Mihashi, who tries so hard to connect even though they miss each other so very spectacularly, Mihashi who’s taught him things about himself and about the kind of person he _wants_ to be, and all those times Mihashi turns the blinding light of his awe on Hanai… It’s sweet. And addictive as hell. And the two of them together… They’re just so much sweetness and easiness and Hanai wants to sink down and lose himself in it like the softest bed, except he knows damn well it wouldn’t be anywhere _near_ so restful. But he wants it, even if it’d exhaust him, drive him crazy. Is _already_ driving him nuts.

He makes himself stop looking for them.

It doesn’t help, and anyway, even if he’s not trying to find them, even if he keeps his head down as much as possible, he still seems to catch sight of more stuff to fuel all his dirtiest and his most saccharine fantasies.

He considers confronting them about it, but he can’t imagine that conversation ending with any kind of win for him. And really, if they stopped, would that even be a win? He knows what a _real_ win would look like, and it just seems so unimaginable. Even if Tajima seems to practically get off on torturing him like this…Hanai doesn’t need Nishihiro’s help to figure out that the odds of being attracted to two people who were both interested in each other  _and_ interested back are pretty much nil, and Hanai’s never been lucky.

Another captain’s meeting, Abe shuffling through some papers on the bench while Sakaeguchi jogs over to relay something to Momoe. Hanai watches him go, then turns to examine Abe for a moment.

“D’you think there’s a way to get over crushes?”

Abe looks up with an expression like he’s smelling something foul. “Why the hell are you asking _me?_ Go ask…I don’t know, Yuu, or someone.”

“I’d…rather not.” Hanai avoids his stare, feeling his cheeks heat up. “You just…seem so detached. Like you don’t even have to deal with that crap. Don’t even care.”

Abe arches a brow at him, leaning an elbow on one knee. “Just because I choose not to so obviously tie myself up in knots over it doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings, thanks.” Abe’s eyes flick out across the field for half a second.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Mm.”

“Or maybe it’s _exactly_ it. You—”

“Look, the only advice I’ve got for you is decide whether you’re content with things as they are, and if you’re not, then _do_ something about it.”

Hanai glares at him. “Easy enough for _you_ to say.”

“Yep. Now gimme that practice menu.” Abe makes an imperious grasping motion.

Hanai hands it over, peering at him. “So…that means you _do_ have feelings for someone, right? And you’re, what, ‘content’ with not doing anything?”

“I never said that. Any of that.” Abe’s cheeks are very faintly pink, and now he keeps his nose down in the papers. “If I _did_ , I might just be waiting for the right moment.”

Hanai snorts out a laugh. “What the hell, ‘right moment’. There are no ‘right moments’.”

“Oh, now you're the expert?" Abe's silent for another beat. "Then I’ll _make_ one.”

“That’s a little…unsettling, dude. Very romantic, but…”

Abe shrugs off Hanai’s laughter, eyes flicking away from his face again. Hanai tries to follow his gaze, but gives up; there’s just too much happening on the field.

Hanai sighs out a breath. “Well, let me give _you_ some advice: don’t wait too long, or they might not be available by the time you find your ‘right moment’.”

Abe gives him a long, unreadable look, mouth hidden behind his hand, and then looks back down at the papers. “Fair point.”

It’s Hanai’s turn to consider Abe, perfectly composed apart from the flush across his cheekbones. Nosy questions linger heavy on his tongue, but he’s almost certain the only answer he’d get would be a bland stare or perhaps a snippy direction to mind his own business.

Hanai thinks a lot about what ‘doing something about it’ would look like. But he’s not as strong of a planner as Abe is, certainly not on the level of engendering some Situation where he could…ask out? hit on? proposition?—the two of them. And it’s just always so much easier to get caught up in worrying about the fallout if it went poorly, or imagining… _things_ if it went well. Frequently. In graphic detail.

But no surefire way to get through it with his dignity intact comes to him. It rankles, hurts a guy’s pride to feel like he’s chickening out. He even gets as far as considering asking Mom for help. _Considers_ it. The second he thinks about the likelihood of being laughed at for twenty minutes straight and then having her tell Dad and possibly every other person she knows in the entire world, he scraps the idea. Tears it up, burns it, and scatters the ashes far out at sea.

Which is what he considers doing with the stray batting helmet lying in a corner of the clubroom after practice.

It just seems…too suspicious, and Mihashi and Tajima are conspicuously absent. Hanai stares it down, sagging with defeat.

Oki side-eyes his exhausted expression, dithers for a second, then plucks up the helmet. “Hey… I could take it back for you? Or we can just leave it until the morning…”

“No!” Hanai colours a little at the tight pitch of his voice. “It’s…you’ve got a long trip home, right? I’ll take care of it.”

“So do you, though…”

“It’s not a big deal. I’ll handle it.”

Oki peers over at him for a moment longer, but then just hands the helmet over with an awkward smile, picks up his bag, and follows the others out.

Hanai stands for a long moment, considering the helmet in his hands. Long enough for the room to clear completely, though the stink of a dozen-some-odd sweaty teens lingers. With a resigned sigh, he turns to head back out to the field.

By the time he gets there, he’s pissed, mind full of cool lines like _I don’t appreciate being your plaything,_ and simply _could you_ please _stick to doing it at home like_ normal people?? _Get a car or something. Anywhere that's not fucking_ school. He stomps the last few meters to the storage shed, practically flinging its door up.

He's almost-- _almost_ \--underwhelmed. If this were in fact some kind of set-up, he feels like he's entitled to something a _little_ more elaborate than Mihashi with the fingers of one hand twisted tightly in the chain link of one of the portable barrierss, down on his knees with his pants down around his spread thighs and his boxers pulled down enough for Tajima, tight up against his back and chin hooked over his shoulder, to jack him off as he grinds against Mihashi's ass, his own pants undone and shoved down his hips, Mihashi's other hand fisted in them and pulling on him to encourage each luxuriant roll of Tajima's hips and actually no, no, Hanai decides this is really quite elaborate enough and anything more ambitious might've killed him.

“ _Took_ you long enough! Ren’s almost done.”

Hanai considers throwing the batting helmet at Tajima, but he's not entirely confident in his aim at present. Or his ability to hold himself back from throwing it hard enough to kill. “What. The _hell_. Do you mean.”

Tajima seems more intent on nosing in behind Mihashi’s ear at the moment, kissing noisily, so it’s up to Mihashi to turn to him, fix him with a light gaze (interrupted only briefly when Tajima catches his presented earlobe in his teeth), and say, “B-but Azusa-kun wants…with us, r-right?”

“No, I _don't!_ I'm not...I'm not some kind of pervert! And would you _please_..." He means to say ‘stop doing that’, but the words won’t come, and all he can do is shield his hot cheeks with an inadequate hand.

Mihashi flinches at his voice, but nuzzles back against Tajima’s face. Tajima leans back, subtly angling their bodies towards Hanai, hand moving slowly now on Mihashi’s dick. Hanai can’t help peeking through his fingers, mesmerized by the way Mihashi’s hips tremble subtly then twitch forward at the end of each stroke, except no, he makes himself drag his eyes back up to Mihashi’s face because he’s trying to talk again. “But…but…Azusa-kun likes w-watching, so…so… I-if you like…just…just…watch?”

Hanai drops the batting helmet.

“Great idea! Well, if _he’s_ just gonna watch…” Surprisingly fast, Tajima manhandles Mihashi around, and, not giving him a chance to get his legs straightened, bends him back on the packed earth of the shed floor. Mihashi’s eyes focus again on Hanai’s face for a moment before he squeezes his eyes shut as Tajima licks a long line up the underside of his dick.

And shit, there’s _no_ way in which Tajima’s not just putting on a show, pausing to grin up at Hanai like that and then laving around the head of Mihashi’s dick, pulling back when Mihashi shifts, tilting his hips up after that wet heat. There’s a shiny line of spit connecting them and it’s absolutely _disgusting_ and also leaving Hanai weak-kneed and hard as hell. And then there’s Mihashi, too, wriggling around to finally straighten his legs and sliding one between Tajima’s knees (that he immediately grinds down against), and his eyes trailing down (up?) Hanai’s body to his crotch, and Mihashi whimpers, he fucking _whimpers_ while looking at Hanai’s hard-on and Tajima giggles and bends to suck in his dick and it’s too much, _way_ too fucking much, and Hanai’s dropping to his knees before he’s totally conscious of the decision.

This is not quite how he envisioned his First Real Kiss, upside-down with hard earth under his knees and one elbow, the smell of sweat and leather and metal and grass still thick in the air, and Tajima fucking Yuuichirou gasping out “Whoaaaaaa!” like he’s at a goddamn fireworks show. And at first, Mihashi seems too startled to do much more than breath out a confused noise against his lips and it’s messy and not much of anything but then with a frantic little noise, Mihashi reaches up to cling at the front of his t-shirt and tilts his head and starts actually kissing _back_ and whatever Hanai _had_ imagined his first kiss being like, he’s pretty sure this is better.

“I see why ya liked watchin’ us! It’s _real_ hot,” Tajima crows it out like it’s some kind of triumph on his part.

Hanai reluctantly breaks the kiss to glower at him. “Would you be quiet. For like _five seconds_.”

“Nope! Suck on his lip; he likes it.”

Mihashi squeaks out something Hanai assumes is embarrassed agreement, and he glances down at him, stroking his thumb over Mihashi’s cheek with something akin to wonder. Then frowns slightly. “Don’t talk about your…Ren like he’s some _pet_.” Using given names has long since lost its awkwardness, but saying it _here_... It's heady and embarrassing, all at once.

He ignores Tajima's direction for as long as he can, but Mihashi’s looking up at him with such wide, hungry eyes, and his lips parted and wet and tugging on Hanai’s shirt emphatically and he’s _curious._ Enough to mostly ignore Tajima watching with bated breath and one hand stroking absently up Mihashi’s side under his shirt (except that if he’s honest, it’s pretty hot to be watched like this). Hanai dips down, just taking Mihashi’s lower lip between his own at first, listening to the light anticipatory noise he hums out, then sucks on it. It’s kind of a weird sensation, a fascinating springy yield to the flesh, and he opens his eyes just in time to see that the slight movement he feels is Mihashi’s hips trembling up, Tajima giggling and curving a teasing palm against his dick for half a second. Hanai murmurs out a pleased noise of his own, pressing his lips to Mihashi’s in a gentler kiss, then tips his head to suck his lip back in, and when he does, Mihashi takes _his_ lip in his mouth, too, wet and sloppy and lovely and Hanai can feel the vibration of Mihashi’s voice and he can’t really _suck_ like this so instead he pinches his lip between his teeth. Mihashi exhales a frantic little noise, and Hanai releases him, jerks back with a harsh pant.

“No, dummy. That’s a _good_ noise.” Fingers slide over the back of his head, down to stroke over his nape, comforting, then insistently pushing him down.

“It! It was! Good,” Mihashi confirms, and there’s so much eagerness in his voice that Hanai wants very badly to satisfy, except that he also has other things he wants to try. He resists the fingers urging him down, swaying forward to capture grinning lips in a quick kiss that _also_ starts awful but then turns amazing and perhaps that’s just how kisses _are_ and Tajima laughs through his nose but also cups Hanai’s cheek in a way that’s just really nice and Mihashi cups his dick in a way that has Hanai choking out a strangled noise. Mihashi snatches his hand back with a squeak.

“ _Good_ noise! That was a good noise, Ren. I was just…startled.” He peers down at Mihashi, whose tentative smile is just barely visible in the shadow of his body and _holy, my dick is like right there, he could just…_ Hanai’s breath punches out of him, and against his will, his hips jerk forwards tightly. Mihashi eyes his dick, seeming to come to a similar conclusion, if his weird pervy snicker is anything to go by. And the next thing Hanai knows, he’s reaching up, fingers pinching his zipper and it’s teasing, pulling the fabric of his pants against his hard-on and then abruptly, he’s throwing himself back into an awkward half-crouch, pulling out of their hands.

“Huh?”

“A...zusa…kun…?”

He stares from one set of wide eyes to the other. “What…what _is_ this?”

“What’s what?”

“What…” It feels like a ridiculous thing to ask of two guys who together probably barely outweigh him. “What are you planning to _do_ with me??”

Tajima stares back at him for a few more seconds before bursting out laughing.

But Mihashi looks between them with an uncertain little dip of a smile and a worried frown, and then reaches out, hesitating a second before clumsily patting at Hanai’s knee. He’s avoiding Hanai’s gaze, now, eyes lighting briefly on Tajima and then skipping around the shed. “Azusa-kun…is… This...feels bad??”

Hanai stares down at him in consternation, then grabs his hand away from his knee, squeezing it hard. “I don’t feel _bad_ , I just…I want… I _don’t_ want,” he starts to mutter because it doesn’t sound _nearly_ as good now as it had in his head, “to be your plaything.”

“Whoaaaaa, Hanai! Layin' down the _law!_ ”

“What? Sh…shut up!” To his great annoyance, he can feel his cheeks heat up, his only consolation that probably neither of them can tell in this light. He releases Mihashi’s hand, resisting the urge to cross his arms or cover his face.

“Then again…” Tajima comes forwards on his hands, lowering himself on top of Mihashi with a toothy grin, not taking his eyes off Hanai. “You sure?”

Mihashi plucks at Tajima’s jersey. “Yuu, that’s…it’s kind of…ouchy o-on my…”

“Ah, sorry!” Tajima hops up on his toes, butt in the air, grin a bit less feral as he tips his head down to rub his nose against Mihashi’s, who smiles back. It’s…offensively cute.

“That.”

“Eh?”

“If…if I were gonna get… _involved_ , I’d want _that_ , too.”

“Getting your dick squashed?” Tajima blinks up at him innocently, and it’s impossible to tell whether he’s full of it or not.

“No…I’d wanna, like,” Hanai’s starting to mumble again, “ _date_ and stuff.”

Tajima looks at him a moment longer, and now _Mihashi’s_ staring up at him too, and Hanai kind of wishes he’d just left the damn batting helmet in the clubroom and gone home.

“Well, not like we really go out on dates and stuff, but—”

“I want! Azusa! To be m…our? Boyfriend!”

Both Hanai and Tajima stare down at Mihashi for a second. And then Tajima looks back up with another huge grin. “Yeah! Me too.” He dips to nuzzle against Mihashi again and smooch him, then pushes himself up, kneeling over Mihashi’s chest and reaching out for Hanai. "That's all you meant?"

"Yeah." _All? Kind of a big all._

Tajima’s hands are powerful in their grip on his shoulders, and it sends a weird jolt of arousal through him even as it’s steadying. And then Tajima’s leaning in with an easy smile and it kind of tickles when he rubs his nose alongside Hanai’s but it also feels great, makes him feel flushed down to the tips of his toes in the best way. And then Tajima kisses him, soft and nice and full of all the affection he’s been craving and perhaps a bit more what he’d imagined his first kiss being like. Except then Tajima lurches to the side and there’s some scrambling, and then Mihashi’s up on his knees beside him and kissing Hanai’s cheek. It’s too much, too _exactly_ what he was hoping for, dreaming of, and Hanai realizes with a rush that leaves him falling back on his ass that he feels _lucky_.

“A-Azusa-kun is—”

“I’m _fine!_ ”

“Maybe he’s woozy ‘cause he’s got a boner!”

“I’m _not_ —” Hanai reaches for Tajima, intending to give him a noogie, pinch him, throttle him a little, _something_ , except that somewhere along the way, it turns into him grabbing him in a rough hug, _infinitely_ more embarrassing than anything else that’s happened tonight. Especially during that instant when Tajima’s just kneeling there without reacting at all.

But then he makes a noise like he’s smiling and squeezes Hanai tight with his wiry arms, only releasing him to tug Mihashi closer, and Hanai loosens his grip to admit him, too.

Sometimes it really sucks being the tallest, when he’d really, _really_ like to hide his face against someone’s shoulder. He settles for burying his face in Mihashi’s hair, which works up until Mihashi hums a happy little noise and tips his head to kiss Hanai’s cheek, his jaw, sweet and light and then another, longer, slightly sucking, and now Hanai would _really_ like to hide, except that there are two _very_ cute young men dotting kisses on his throat and down, stretching the collar of his shirt to drag lips over the rise of his collarbone and then leaning back to kiss each other. It’s so much better, being close for this and feeling like he’s _allowed_ to watch, like when Tajima opens his eyes, all that cocksure challenge there in them no matter the low light, Hanai doesn’t need to look away. Instead, he grins back, threads his fingers through Tajima’s short hair and leans in for a proper kiss of his own.

This time, when he feels a hand cup his dick, he’s got no reservations about pressing into it. He can’t tell whose it is and he doesn’t care and anyway, _then_ he’s pretty certain there’s _two_ hands, working together clumsily to unzip his jeans, and with the press of the heavy fabric gone, Hanai gasps with relief against the lips he’s kissing. Mihashi’s now. He reaches down, fitting one hand to the curve of Mihashi’s ass and shoving the other into Tajima’s pants to do the same to him, feeling the different shape of them and the way Mihashi pushes back into his touch while Tajima just chuckles and focuses on getting his hand into _Hanai’s_ pants. He hums appreciatively, lips smearing against Hanai’s neck and up to kiss just behind the corner of his jaw.

And then half-yelling, _right_ in his fucking ear, “Hey! I think Azusa’s bigger’n either of us.”

“T- _Tajima_ …!” Hanai shoves his face away, shaky with arousal and embarrassment and no small amount of ego.

“R-really? I want to…!” Before he can stop him, Mihashi’s reaching for the open front of Hanai’s pants.

“Well, I dunno if he’s, like, _big_ big, and like I don't think it really _counts_ 'cause you're just _bigger_ , but…”

"Gee, _thanks_."

“O…oh…” Mihashi jolts a little when his hand curls on Hanai’s dick. As if it would feel any different from any other.

Hanai slaps both hands over his face, groaning, “You two…”

He can’t finish the thought because Mihashi’s still got his hand on his dick, stroking him slowly through the fabric and when Hanai peeks through his fingers, he’s got such a happy curious expression, eyes flicking up to meet Hanai’s in wordless question. Hanai nods slowly, and Mihashi smiles back shyly, then leans in with his head tipped up, and, Hanai realises with a weird twist of pleasure, waiting for a kiss. He sighs out a breath as he meets Mihashi's lips, feeling his shaky hands twitch the hem of his shirt out of the way with a shiver. Mihashi's fingers hook in the waistband of his boxers, and then there’s more hands, hauling his shirt higher and then just running more confident fingers over Hanai’s stomach and up to his chest, shoving his shirt up enough that Tajima can lean in to swipe a tongue over his nipple and Hanai’s not entirely sure he likes it but it’s still hot as hell and he _is_ very sure he likes the feel of Mihashi’s rough right hand on the bare skin of his dick. Hanai breaks the kiss with a low noise, mouth falling open on quick breaths as he tips his head forward to watch, past Tajima enthusiastically sucking what will surely be an embarrassing red welt on his pec tomorrow, to watch his dick slipping through the loose ring of Mihashi’s fingers. And Mihashi’s own cock, close by and still hard, jutting up from above the waistband of his underwear.

Hanai reaches for it, and has to stop _himself_ from starting a little, partly because the second he touches him, Mihashi cries out and presses his face into his shoulder, his own fingers tightening on the base of Hanai’s dick. Tajima giggles at them, turning his head to kiss Mihashi’s cheek. It seems so natural to switch hands, wrap his arm around Mihashi’s waist and hug him closer and kiss his hair and Tajima’s forehead and then Mihashi’s again and then his lips when he tips his head up with a needy noise. Tajima falls away from them, sitting back on his heels with a contented breath. Hanai hears the clink of his belt as he wriggles the rest of the way out of his pants, kicking off his shoes, but damned if he can be bothered to look, not with Mihashi teasing a tentative flicker of tongue against his lips and stroking his dick with a deliciously unsteady rhythm, and the hot feel of Mihashi’s skin against Hanai’s palm, the slight stickiness as he cups his hand against the tip, just letting Mihashi thrust against it for a moment before he grips him again. And then Mihashi breaks the kiss, nuzzling into the curve of Hanai’s neck with a frantic noise, and he looks over, utterly unsurprised to find Tajima with his hand on his dick and cheeky grin in place.

“Nah, kiss more! That was good!”

Hanai shoots him a glare, then turns to kiss Mihashi’s temple. “You don’t have to tell _me_. Ren…?” Less a request than a soft verbal stroke, with the quiet frantic noises the blond is making into his shirt. Realisation hits him, then, awe hot on its heels, and also a hot curiousity that has him setting his hands on Mihashi’s hips, urging him up despite his distressed cry. But Mihashi stumbles to his feet easily enough, and the doorframe is right _there_ and it’s hardly a pleasant thing to lean against but damn if Mihashi doesn’t look _hot_ , half his body kissed with distant lamplight, reaching a hand behind him for support and twisting his other in the front of his jersey, somehow both slouching and tensely arched and his pants still hanging around his knees in a way that’s a little ridiculous but somehow all the more appealing for it, and all while looking down at Hanai with adoration like he hasn’t got a fucking clue how gorgeous he looks.

“Holy crap…”

Hanai stops midway through sliding closer to Mihashi on hands and knees to shoot Tajima an exasperated look. “Could you…can’t you think of something a _little_ more appealing to say?”

“Like what?” There’s honest curiousity in Tajima’s voice.

“Pretty much anything,” Hanai grumbles, coming up on slightly spread knees in front of Mihashi, hands sliding up the front of his thighs, up to frame the angles of his hips. Mihashi whines out his want, hips twitching against Hanai’s light hold and sending heat rushing down his spine.

“Aaaaaanything?” Hanai has several regrets. “Like…watermelon! Algebra? Strictly! Do—”

“ _Please_ stop.”

“Hey, you even done this before? Want any poin—”

“ _Yuu_ , so help me, if you don’t shut _up_ , I’m gonna shove a baseball in your mouth. And not one of the clean ones.”

Tajima just cackles in response, almost covering up the sound of Mihashi giggling too, much less grating, fist shoved against his mouth. And somehow, despite himself, Hanai can’t help but huff out an exasperated laugh of his own.

And then nearly squeaks when there’s abruptly a body pressed up against his own, a mouth on his nape, murmuring out, “Whatever you say, captain,” in a way that makes up for all his idiocy, that leaves Hanai involuntarily arching back into Tajima with a rough pant. Tajima tugs on his pants, and Hanai’s all too happy to help shove them down, though he doesn’t quite put it together in his mind until Tajima’s adjusting his dick to lie up against the cleft of his ass. Abruptly, the enormity of actually _doing_ this stuff hits him, and Hanai’s left shoving his face against Mihashi’s hip, and he honestly couldn’t say how much of it’s incoherent arousal and how much being overwhelmed and he feels ridiculous and stupid and Tajima’s making a questioning noise because the little shit always has to be so damn _perceptive_ , read some little cue in the set of Hanai’s shoulders or the slight tremor of his stomach as Tajima slips his arms around him.

Tajima hugs him tight. Mihashi dithers for a moment, then drops down into his space. All Hanai can think is _this is so uncool_. But apparently being uncool nets him soft kisses to the cheek and nape and back of his head and two sets of arms wrapped around him, and Tajima mercifully fucking silent and still.

Except then he rubs his cheek against Hanai’s shoulder, and says, almost sulky, “I wanted this to be fun.”

Hanai pulls a face. “ _How_ old are y—”

Tajima smushes his face against him, arms tight bands across his chest. “Not what I meant.”

Mihashi shifts, peering over Hanai’s shoulder and then up into his face.

Hanai sighs, rolling his eyes. “Whatever you _think_ I’m… It _is_ fun.” A thought strikes him, and he makes himself meet Mihashi’s concerned gaze. “Hey, what about you guys’ first time? Weren't you nervous?”

Mihashi’s eyes widen, his mouth opening and closing. “Not really... A-accident!”

Tajima raises his head. “Accident? Yeah, I guess, at _first_ …” He snickers. “We didn’t even get _this_ far,” he skims a hand over Hanai’s bare hip, leaving goosebumps in its wake, “and Ren spooged after like a couple minutes!”

“Please…please _never_ call it that again…”

“Did n-not!”

“Did too! I didn’t care, it was _real_ hot!” Mihashi squawks and hides his face against Hanai’s chest. “And hey, not like I took much longer! But that was okay, ‘cause then we just did it again.”

Hanai pats Mihashi’s head absently, staring unseeing at a bucket. “Again…” Somehow, the idea is both intensely arousing and intimidating.

“Yeah! Hey, I bet with three of us, we could get like a _relay_ going, practically, and—” Hanai wrenches around, grappling Tajima in an incredibly awkward headlock. “HEY!”

“ _Baseball_. In your _mouth_.”

“Whoa, you some kinda pervert?”

With a disgusted noise, Hanai releases him, but before he can turn back, Tajima pulls him down for a smooch, laughing. And he hates it, because he can’t resist it, any of it, not with all his blustering and irritation, can’t stop the dazed laughter escaping his own mouth. Tajima breaks the kiss, but lingers where their lips brush with each breath, then cups his jaw tensely before finally releasing him.

“Feelin' better?”

Hanai stays awkwardly twisted long enough to press one last kiss to Tajima’s hair, already damp with sweat. “Yeah, think so.”

“Good.” Tajima swats his butt. “Now, go blow my boyfriend!”

“ _Taji_ —” Hanai inhales deeply, closing his eyes.

There’s the sound of Mihashi stumbling to his feet again. _He’s been very patient… I’d be about ready to punch someone, stopping and starting like that so many times…_ And yes, when he opens his eyes, Mihashi’s just blinking down at him with his weird v smile and plenty of eagerness, for sure, but no impatience. Not something he can say for Tajima, who’s presently leaning all his weight on Hanai with his arms draped over his shoulders. He reaches Mihashi’s hips, pinching at them and making him wriggle and laugh.

“Yuu…!”

“I’m done! Couldn’t resist.” Tajima settles back, breath hot against Hanai’s shoulder and hands trailing down his chest. His dick slides under, pushing between Hanai’s thighs, and he’s left inhaling a shuddering breath, hips stuttering back.

When he grabs Mihashi’s hips, it’s as much to have something to hang onto as anything. He leans in, lips close enough to feel the heat and that electrical sensation of another’s skin, then looks up. “Ren…how do you… Uh, what do you like?”

Mihashi blinks at him for a few seconds before breathing out an incomprehensible noise, covering his face. Which is perhaps good, considering the unimpressed face Hanai’s making.

But a voice comes, lips brushing just above his collar. “You’ve seen porn, right? Like that. Use your hands, and keep your teeth back. Trust me, it’s _not_ super hard.” Tajima reaches out to drag a finger up the underside of Mihashi’s dick, making him squeak and twitch to follow the contact. “Hehehe, not like Re-en!”

Hanai decides to ignore him, just nodding and shifting one hand to curl around Mihashi’s dick. Mihashi grips the edge of the door behind him, gasping, and then Tajima’s hand wraps around _Hanai’s_ dick and everything feels just a little bit less daunting and a bit more mind-numbingly good. He strokes Mihashi’s dick once, light, then holds him steady.

He’s seized with sudden embarrassing curiousity and lets his mouth fall open, tongue slicking up the slit of Mihashi’s cock. Mihashi smothers a cry in the angle of his arm, and Hanai falls back with a heavy breath, covering his mouth. It tastes…fairly disgusting, but it’s also  _really_ hot, and it’s only a second before he’s ready for more.

He braces his hand back on Mihashi’s hip and opens his mouth enough to take in the head, closing his lips as he slides down the shaft. His own abrupt pant is echoed by Tajima behind him, the other boy’s hips snapping crisply forward against Hanai’s ass, hard-on sliding against his skin, and his hand starting to work Hanai’s dick with short, steady strokes. And Tajima’s right, it’s _not_ that difficult. Just a matter of keeping his mouth loose as he bobs his head, pulling back briefly to lick his lips spitty and then sucking Mihashi back in. Not entirely easy, either; his jaw is already protesting, but damn, if it isn’t worth it for the frantic noises Mihashi’s trying to bite back, for Tajima’s appreciative groans, for the way Mihashi’s hips hitch forwards to follow his mouth and his hand dropping to fist in Hanai’s shirt.

Hanai looks up at him, then pulls back. “Ren…you wanna…?” Mouth hanging open, he tugs on Mihashi’s hips to illustrate, hoping he’s not going to have to ask outright ‘hey, do you wanna fuck my mouth?’. Mihashi sniffs in a startled breath, eyes wide on his face, then does one of his ridiculous overexcited nods, and Hanai smiles back, feeling nervous arousal twist up through his stomach and chest.

“Whoa, Azusa, goin’ for th— _hey!_ ” Without turning, Hanai reaches back and pinches Tajima.

He can only presume he’s saved from retaliation because Tajima is similarly arrested by Mihashi shuffling half a step forward, now with both hands curled lightly on Hanai's shoulders.

“That’s right.” Feeling Mihashi lean his slight weight into him is unexpectedly intoxicating. “I got you.” He reaches up to take hold of Mihashi’s dick lightly, licking his lips again and then parting them invitingly. Tajima presses his face against his shoulder, making it obvious when he tips his head up to watch, his hand slowing on Hanai’s cock. And then Mihashi, trembling a little as he looks down at them, and Hanai almost expects him to apologise as he rocks his hips forward, but no, he just tips his head down with an urgent noise when the tip of his dick presses stickily against Hanai’s lips, pushing between them.

Mihashi picks up rhythm quickly, his fingers biting into Hanai’s shoulders. It’s too deep, making his eyes water already, but he has a feeling he won’t have to worry about it for long. And somehow, despite the soreness in his jaw and the unpleasantness and the friction that’s still there even with spit flooding his mouth and the sheer fucking mortification of having someone do this to him, he doesn’t think he’d ask Mihashi to stop, slow down, even if he could. Even with Tajima’s ridiculous oohing and ahhing behind him, because silly as it is, it’s genuine, and the way Tajima’s thrusting against his skin is burning Hanai up until he’s moaning around the cock in his mouth, cheeks flaming hot and all down his neck and clinging to Mihashi’s hips for support and to feel the tense and pull of his muscles.

Mihashi cries out, leaning into him heavier and then one hand tugging frantically on his shirt. Hanai looks up at him through watery eyes, fascinated as Mihashi pants and squinches up his face in a way that _should_ be unappealing but is just really, really hot. Mihashi opens his eyes, gaze unfocused for a second and then locking on Hanai’s face. “A…A…Azu...sa...” He grits his teeth on an abrupt noise, eyes squeezing shut.

Hanai flinches at the burst of liquid that hits his tongue, but still drops a hand to squeeze around Tajima’s on his own dick, gasping in heavy breaths through his nose. Mihashi just trembles, pushing his dick against Hanai’s tongue and hauling on his shirt, and then with a gasp, pulls out, collapsing in front of him.

Hanai reaches for him but before he can do more than cup his hands around Mihashi’s arms, Tajima’s yanking on his shoulder, jerking him back, and kissing him deeply. Hanai’s startled enough that it takes him half a beat to be incredibly grossed out by the tongue swiping over his own.

“Yuu…! What the _hell??_ ”

Tajima just snickers, pressing the back of his hand to his lips, then grabs Mihashi’s shirt, smiling impishly as he hauls on him. Hanai watches with horrified fascination as they stop, faces almost touching, some silent exchange flitting between them before they kiss. Sloppy, with lots of tongue, and Hanai had not previously imagined he could be both this turned on and this revolted at the same time. They break apart, laughing again, Mihashi covering his lips with fingertips, eyes flicking over to Hanai.

Hanai shoves his hand against the side of Mihashi’s face. “Don’t. You. _Dare_.” Mihashi just giggles, turns his head and presses a quick kiss to Hanai’s palm; he snatches his hand back.

But then Mihashi’s crowding close to him, pressing their foreheads together, and not trying to do… _things_ to him, just nudging against him with a happy noise. “But…Azusa-kun…th-thank you…”

“Ah? Er, you’re…welcome?” He gives in, eyes slipping shut as he brushes his lips over Mihashi’s.

Tajima kind of ruins the moment by snickering at them, then pulls on his sleeve. “Me! I want smooches too!”

“ _Very_ attractive. You _already_ —” Insistent hands pull him over, eager lips cover his own, and a callused hand wraps around his dick, and Hanai has no real protest in him anyway, only want. Enough that he goes over perfectly easy when Tajima pushes on his shoulder, breaking the kiss and swinging a leg over Hanai’s hips. Hanai’s eyes pop wide, then flutter shut when Tajima bends forward to capture his mouth again, lips open and soft and lovely and he shifts back in Hanai’s lap until his ass nudges against his dick. Hanai breaks the kiss with a gasped curse, grabbing Tajima’s arms. _Is he…?_

Tajima laughs, sitting up, bathed in the dim yellow light and grinning loosely. “Relax. Not doin’ anything crazy. Just skin-on-skin.” Hanai nods, then lets his head tip back against the ground as Tajima slowly rolls his hips back. “Funny, you weren’t freaked out when it was _me_ grinding against _your_ butt.”

Hanai covers his face with both hands. “Can we… _not_ minutely examine my reactions to this stuff at present? Or ever?” He just wishes Tajima would _hush_ already, because it feels _ridiculously_ good, rocking his hips up and letting his cock slide against the cleft of Tajima’s ass, and now Mihashi’s slowly slipping down beside him, pressing against Hanai’s side and kissing the back of his hand with soft happy noises.

“Naw, it’s interesting.” Still moving his hips, Tajima sets his hands on Hanai’s chest, leaning forward. “What, so you’d rather _me_ fuck _you?_ ”

“No—I don’t know! Stop…stop…”

“Or could be Ren, I guess! But you’d rather be alllll stretched open on someone’s dick?”

“Oh my god, Tajima—”

Tajima shifts his weight to one hand, and when Hanai peeks through his fingers, he’s jacking off with quick, efficient strokes, eyes intent on whatever little he can see of Hanai’s own face. Tajima quirks an eyebrow. “You don’t wanna stick your biiiiiiiig juicy cock in my butt?”

“Could you _not_.” If it were somehow possible to cover his burning face _more_ , Hanai would do it.

“Or—well, with three of us, you could do both! You wanna be sandwiched between us? You want that, A. Zu. Sa?” Tajima leans hard on his hand, then shifts back, shoving Hanai’s shirt up, heel of his hand skidding over his skin. “ _I’d_ like that. Fuck you while you got Ren pinned under you, or,” he slows the movement of his hips, coming up off Hanai’s lap entirely as he rubs his ass back up the length of his dick, “have you split me open with Ren pounding you. Hah, not like I’d be able to see his scrawny butt around you!” Hanai pulls a sour face at the roof of the shed. Tajima leans forward, pulling on Hanai’s wrist, his other hand smacking into Hanai’s taut-pulled stomach with each stroke. “I wanna do _lots_ of stuff with you, Azusa, you’n’Ren _both_. I thought about it lots. And I know _Ren_ has, too.”

Tajima finally releases him from the searing pin of his stare, looking over at Mihashi with a grin, and then Mihashi, perhaps feeling a bit left out, leaning in with a needy gasp of sound to kiss him. Tajima’s fingers flex on Hanai’s wrist and he huffs out urgent, shaky breaths, hips rocking back with short, sharp movements. He breaks the kiss, looking at Mihashi with a hot, hazy expression, then kisses him again quick before looking back at Hanai, who’s made the mistake of letting his hands be pulled down and is caught looking back into those intent brown eyes.

“I bet _you_ been thinking about it, too, huh? I bet—”

“Holy _fuck_ …” His voice cracks.

“…think about it at night pumpin’ your dick in your fist. Or…” Tajima bites his lip, eyes sparkling in a way that’s terrifying and also leaving Hanai with irresistible heat pooling in his crotch. “Betcha done it after you caught us! Right there at school. Maybe in the club room! Or…” he glances at Mihashi, “nurse’s room! Or nah, I bet you…in the bathroom!” Hanai has the horrifying feeling that the truth of it will show somehow on his face, but it doesn’t make him fuck against Tajima’s skin any less enthusiastically. “Hey! We could _both_ put it in your ass! Oh man, how’d you like _that_ , Azusa? Two dicks rammin’ into you, and—”

Hanai shoves himself up, catching Tajima in a rough kiss as his hips jerk up over and over, spurting come on Tajima’s and his own skin and _oh shit, my_ jeans, _too, probably_ , but he’s just all blank white heat and pleasure and Tajima throwing himself back and stroking his dick fast and hard, face squinched up tight, and then, with a stuttered inhale, coming all over Hanai’s stomach, hot strings across his skin and Hanai breathes out a lost noise as his hips curve up with aftershocks.

It takes him a moment before he can open his eyes, longer before he can focus clearly on Tajima above him, both of them still panting hard. Hanai glances over at Mihashi, who’s biting his lip and sweeping wide eyes over their bodies, shoulders rising and falling rapidly in a way that makes Hanai think about words like _again_ and shiver deliciously.

“Whoa, you look real hot like that!”

 _If I could just get Tajima to fucking shut_ up.

“Th-that was! The _whole…!_ H-hot!!”

“Yeah? Did I look cool?”

Hanai slaps his hand across his eyes, laughing. Not without catching Mihashi’s excited nod. “Yeah! Both! L-looked...”

“Awesome!” Tajima leans forward, shaking Hanai’s wrist. “Hey, you got a proper mirror in your room? I wanna see next time!”

“No, and also there is no way in _hell_ I am fucking two dudes in that tiny apartment.”

“Aww!” When he looks, Tajima’s got his arms crossed over his chest. He sulks for half a second, then brightens. “Not even if we were _real_ quiet?”

“You can _be_ quiet?”

Mihashi says, “No,” with enough chagrin that Hanai has a feeling there’s been at _least_ one incredibly awkward parental conversation on the subject.

Tajima tips his head back, whining, “I wanna have sex at Azusa’s house!”

“Don't _yell_ that!”

“I wasn’t yelling! _You’re_ the one yelling!”

“This is _exactly_ why that's not happening!”

“Fiiiiiiiiiine!” Tajima pointedly turns toward Mihashi. “So, Ren? We can’t have sex at Azusa’s house because _he’s_ gonna yell too much.”

Hanai makes a disgusted noise, shoving Tajima’s shoulder roughly; Tajima just cackles and tugs Mihashi in for a kiss, both smiling sweetly in a way that makes something warm and wonderful curl in Hanai’s stomach. And then Tajima turns towards him and sighs out a loud breath and starts to flop forward.

“ _Yuu!_ ” Hanai gets his hands under his shoulders. “Are you just  _trying_ to be gross??”

“What's your problem?” Tajima laughs, bearing down against his hands. “Hey, this is fun! Can ya lift me, ya think?”

“Yuu…” Hanai gives him a shove, huffing out an exasperated noise, then sits, holding his shirt up. “ _Please_ tell me you guys have something to clean up with.”

“Nope!”

“I have…no.”

Tajima leans in, waggling his eyebrows. “You could always come to my house, get cleaned up…”

Hanai looks back at him with a stricken expression. Then sighs, bowing his head. “…Sure.”

Tajima cheers. Mihashi hugs him.

Hanai is pretty sure he’s going to die within the week.

**Author's Note:**

> *tries not to write hanai with a budding embarrassment kink*
> 
> *fails miserably*
> 
> *is not in the least bit sorry*


End file.
